


The Not So Gentle Touch

by JenT



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 2019 kink meme, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 10:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17579018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenT/pseuds/JenT
Summary: When Arkadia's Super Bowl winning quarterback suffers a potentially career ending injury, it's the Rehab floor of Arkadia General Hosptial that takes the brunt of it.Can Charge Nurse Clarke convince Bellamy Blake to stop taking his anger/fear/frustrations out on the rest of the nurses?  Or will she kick him through the uprights like a football?





	The Not So Gentle Touch

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt
> 
>  
> 
> **Clarke is assigned to nurse moody bad patient Bellamy who no one wants to look after despite how hot he is due to his stubbornness and unwillingness to not do as his told! Cue nurse Clarke who gives as good as she gets and has her own tactics with dealing with Bellamy.**
> 
>  
> 
> This isn't as kinky and smutty as some of the other fills, but there is still graphic descriptions of sex!

When Clarke stepped off the elevator juggling her bag, phone, keys and Starbucks cup she could feel the tension on the floor. She knew it was going to be a shitty day when she found Harper and Gaia at the nurses station, looking like they were ready to kill.

“He made Madi cry.” Clarke dropped her stuff at the desk and turned to Harper. 

“Where is she?”

“Raven took her to the lounge down the hall. We are tired of dealing with him. I don’t care who he is, that his playing career might be over, that he just had major surgery. He is a fucking asshole who made a 12 year old cry.”

Clarke ran her hands through her hair. “I will go talk to him.” As charge nurse it was her job to deal with these things anyway. Life on the rehab floor had been hell all week. Life in town had been hell since their Super Bowl winning quarterback had torn his ACL in Sunday’s game. He had surgery to repair it Tuesday and had been a terror to everyone. Before this, Bellamy Blake (#8) had been the cities golden boy. He had taken the team from 0-16 the previous year to the Super Bowl in is first season. They lost that game to the Patriots, but in the next 3 seasons they had won the big game twice. He dated actresses and supermodels (his longest public relationship had been with one of those models who only went by one name, Echo of all things). He starred in commercials and hosted Saturday Night Live. But, he gave back to the community, donating money to the children’s hospitals, helping with charity drives and natural disaster relief around the country. 

But, this surgery was proving that was a fucking act.

So, she adjusted her coat, plastered on her fakest smile and walked into room 305. She had tried the nice approach Thursday. She had tried the firm approach Friday. Today she was going to give it to him with both barrels.

“Who do you think you are?” She slammed his door shut, grinning to herself when he dropped his phone out of his hand and onto the bed.

“Your patient who doesn’t deserve to be yelled at first thing on a Saturday morning for one.” He snapped at her just as hard, but then he turned that smile on. Coupled with the dark, curly hair and the freckles it was easy to see why everyone thought he was so hot. When he had first arrived on the floor, he had nurses fighting to take care of him. Now, whoever drew the shortest straw was the one stuck with him.

“I don’t care how much pain you are in or that you think your precious career is over. You do not get to scream at our star volunteer, got it?”

“That little urchin from this morning? She was way to chipper for 8 am on a Saturday.”

“Madi lost both her parents in a car accident, her closest living relatives don’t want her, and she's trying her damndest to make sure she doesn’t become another statistic for why the foster system in this country doesn’t work. What are you, a soon to be washed up sports star asshole?”

“You don’t know anything about me.” He goes to press the nurse call light, she isn’t sure why, but she grabs the tv controller out of his hand.

“I know enough. Maybe if you had paid attention in class instead of fucking everything that came your way you would have a bankable career to fall back on when your playing days are over. Instead you have nothing going for you and you’re scared of what is going to happen if you can’t recover from this.”

“Did you get a psych degree along with your nursing degree?” He sits up straighter in the bed, looks like he is going for the morphine pump.

“We turned the morphine drip off yesterday. And no, I just know your type. I will be back here at 11 to give you a bath.”

“You don’t have some intern you can pawn that off to?” He stares at her a beat too long, he still has painkillers in his system but they should be wearing off.

“I am not going to subject anyone else to your fucking attitude problem. Oh, and when Raven comes in to talk about PT, LISTEN TO HER.”

“You know we have specific trainers for that. We don’t let just any old PT work with us.”

 

“Yeah, heaven forbid you slum with the regular people.” She goes over to sign off on his chart that someone saw him at 8 and turns to walk out the door, slamming it behind her.

****

Clarke stepped back into his room promptly at 11:05, he didn’t deserve promptness today. He had put his phone down and was watching some documentary on the History Channel. She went to the sink, pulled out her keys and unlocked the cabinet below the sink pulling out the bath pan, a few rags and a towel. She turned the tap on and filled the pan without letting the water warm up first. She put a generous portion of soap into the pan and wet a rag.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, he looked for all the world like he was going to say something but he didn’t. 

“Roll over, let me get your back first.” He did what she asked, rolling over to face the window. The one that overlooked the stadium he played in every other weekend. He gasped when the rag hit his back.

“Fucking hell, you really did use cold water.”

“Damn right, I am going to teach you to be nice to my nurses or die trying. You aren’t some God, you don’t get to treat people like shit with no consequences.” She washed his back and then used a pack of warmer wipes to rinse it off before taking a towel and drying him off. She continued with the backs of his legs and watched as he gasped as her hand grazed his ass.

“Turn over.” He did as he was told and Clarke was greeted with the obvious tent in his shorts. Apparently his ego wasn’t the only thing that was massive. Her breath hitched as she took him in, he had taken his shirt off and the blanket had fallen to the side so she had a good look at him. Olive skin, toned abs, the trail of hair leading under his boxers. She licked her lips. He didn’t take his eyes off her.

“Like what you see?”

“See, yes, now if you could just keep your damn mouth shut.”

She let him wash his own face, under arms and torso. She reached for a clean rag when it came time for the fun part. He pulled his shorts down as far as he could. She took in the sight of his cock, hard, dark red, a splatter of freckles. Clarke wrapped the rag around his cock, tugging gently at first and then more forcefully as she cleaned. He raised his hips off the bed gasping with each tug.

“Do you give all your patients this much attention?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” This was a dangerous game she was playing. She could get fired for this. Hell, she could probably get prosecuted if he wanted to push it that far. But right now, the sight of the massive cock in front of her was overpowering her senses. He was such an ass, though.

She tugged a few more times for good measure. He gasped with each one. Grabbed her hand and kept it there, showing her how he liked to be touched, tugging, twisting, running her fingers over the head of his cock. He turned his head into the pillow by his face to cover the sounds of pleasure coming from his mouth. She wondered if she could get him off like this. She didn’t have to wonder much longer, the more attention she paid to him, watching him, working his cock the more wrecked he looked. The other nurses on the floor knew to leave him alone, there was no danger of anyone coming in the door without knocking first.

It was over far too soon for each of them, he came with a groan and a half shout.

She got up from the bed and handed him the rag to finish cleaning up. After dumping the water out, she left the room with a wink in his direction.

**

She didn’t know what she was expecting from her performance this morning but she didn’t get it. The nurse she assigned to him in the afternoon didn’t have much luck with him, he was just as grouchy as before. If she had been hoping an orgasm would calm him, she had been wrong.

She goes back into his room at 645 to let him know how disappointed she is that he is still being an ass. She puts her hand on the door knob just before she knocks and hears him on the phone. She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but his deep voice carries.

“I’ll have my manager call them on Monday. We will get this straightened out.” He is silent for a few minutes as the person on the other end talks.

“Come on mom, don’t cry, I will take care of this, I always do.” He sounds sad, resigned, like this is a conversation he has had one hundred times before.

“You should have told me before it got this bad.”

He is silent again and then she spies him through the cracked door, watches as he holds the phone out to see that the call ended, places it on the bedside table with a groan.

She opens the door then, comes inside. She doesn’t want to add to his mood, but at least it’s her and not the new night nurse she assigned to him. It’s her first night, Clarke hope she comes back for her next shift tomorrow night.

“Eavesdropping Princess?” The kindness in his voice when he spoke to his mother is gone, back is the biting sarcasm from this morning.

“Princess?” You don’t even know me.

“I know enough about you, Clarke Griffin. Your mom is the president of this hospital, your step-dad is the mayor. Your late father designed half the skyscrapers in the city and that stadium across the street. The governor, who hopefully beats the tomato-in-chief, is a family friend.”

“You really do have the wool pulled over the entire country, don’t you.” She checks his IV pump, checks his chart for the day.

“Not you though, huh? You know everything don’t you.”

His phone rings again, he reaches for it as she reads the monitors for blood pressure and heart rate above his head. She listens as the person on the other end starts talking without even saying hello, just launches into a rant. He holds the phone out past his ear as she keeps yelling.

“O, seriously, you don’t know what is going on. I said I would take care of it. Just worry about yourself.”

She knows from the papers that his sister’s name is Octavia, she’s a sophomore at Northwestern. She seems to be the underage ‘star’ the paps are following these days. There are pictures of her on TMZ almost every day going into underage clubs, climbing into limos without her panties on. Almost as useless a celebutante as the Kardashians.

“Yeah, why don’t you actually go to class Monday, so I’m not paying for your degree for nothing.”

She hears a scream on the other end of the line and Bellamy once again holds his phone out to see that she just hung up on him.

She finishes up with what she was checking on and leaves the room without saying goodnight. Raven and Harper are going to be buying her drinks all night. She’s looking forward to it.

**  
When she gets to work Monday morning, she expects Bellamy to be gone or at least to be prepping to be discharged. So, when she gets to the station at 7 am she is shocked to see his name still on the board with no indication he is being released.

“God, seriously!” She puts her stuff down and marches into his room to see what possibly could have happened that he was still here. When she opens the door, he is asleep but his knee is propped up on a pillow, swollen. She reads his chart, sees that he aggravated it in PT yesterday. Raven was at her apartment nursing a hangover with her yesterday, so she knows Lincoln was the PT assigned to him. She is headed back to the nurses station to see who knows what, when she runs into Lincoln.

“He didn’t listen to me yesterday, overextended, boom! I’m sorry. I know he’s a PITA.”

“He’s more than that.”

She’s in his room at 8 when the doctor makes his rounds, tell him he is stuck there a few more days and he needs to listen to the PT at the hospital. Bellamy growls at him too about the PTs at the training facility. The doctor listens to him rant, ignores him and orders more PT. The doctor leaves and the next person in the door is a sight for sore eyes as far as Clarke is concerned.

“Indra! I am so happy to see you.” Indra is the charge nurse for the entire hospital. A former Army Major who did three tours in the Middle East. She gets to babysit him today. He doesn’t stand a chance with her. 

**  
Just after lunch Indra finds Clarke in the nurses lounge. “I think you will find him a bit more cooperative today, Clarke. Take back over, if he gives you any more trouble page me immediately.” Clarke watches in fear as Indra leaves the floor stern face and tattoos scaring everyone in her path. Indra’s face softens as she speaks to her daughter, Gaia, but that is the only flicker of emotion she ever shows.

When it is time for afternoon rounds, Clarke knocks gently on his door and he motions for her to come in. It’s almost an entire about face from his demeanor of the past week. She wonder what Indra said to him, hell what did Indra do to him might be the better question. Sometimes she think Indra isn’t above waterboarding.

Bellamy puts down the book he is reading and turns to her. “I need to apologize to you for how I’ve been acting and some of the things I’ve said. I am sorry, really. This isn’t who I am.”

 

“What did she say to you?”

 

“A lot. Told me to get the stick out of my ass, I can still walk, I can still eat with my mouth, I can still piss the way God intended.”

Clarke makes a face, Indra normally doesn’t talk about her time in the service. Doesn’t talk about all the shit she’s seen.

“Kind of puts it in perspective.”

“Yeah, it does.” She sits on the edge of his bed. He reaches for his phone when the text message notification goes off. He winces at the message, puts his phone face down on the bed. Throws his head back.

“What’s going on?” She is actually genuinely concerned. He may be an ass, but he seems to have some sort of personal drama going on, on top of what he is going through with his knee.

“My mom is going to lose the house I grew up in. She’s six months behind on her mortgage payment.”

“I thought the first thing all pro sports players did when they signed their contracts was buy their mama a house and a car,” she’s trying to make a joke out of it. It fails.

“I paid the house off, she remortgaged it behind my back. She used the money to buy her loser of a boyfriend an Escalade when I told her I wasn’t going to buy it for him.”

“I’m sorry.” She really is sorry, that seems like a crap move.

“And my sister is failing out of the degree I’m paying for. All I wanted to do was take care of my mom and sister like I was supposed to, and now I might not play again and they are squandering all my hard work.”

“I…”

“You don’t have to say anything. It doesn’t excuse the way I’ve been acting. You know they start scouting for the pros in junior high. I was in the eighth grade the first time a scout came to a game. Tenth grade when they told me if I went to the right college I could be the next Brady or Manning.” 

She doesn’t know why he is telling her all this, but he looks at her with sad eyes and he is just do different than the jackass she’s been dealing with for a week. He turns and looks at the stadium across the street again. Damnit, now he is making her feel sorry for him.

“Brady came back from an ACL and won two more Super Bowls.”

“I’m just feeling sorry for myself and taking it on you guys. It is really shitty of me, and I am sorry.” He turns back around then and sits up in his bed. He is dressed today, wearing a worn t shirt instead of the ugly green hospital gowns. He looks at her again, a beat too long and she feels herself leaning in when he takes her hand in his. He threads his fingers around hers with one hand and places the other hand on her cheek and leans in to kiss her. She knows she should stop him, but she just can’t bring herself to do it.

She deepens the kiss as his tongue traces her lips, she opens her mouth for him and it’s sweet and gentle, not at all like how she would have imagined. She’s at work, she should stop this but she feels the heat pooling in her stomach, know where this would lead if they were anywhere else than a hospital room at her place of employment. She pulls away from him, her face burning from the flush and heat of having him so close.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“I’m the one who’s sorry, I shouldn’t have put you in that position.” She responded.

**  
She goes on with the rest of her day, but she can’t get the feeling of the kiss out of her mind. Remembering how his hands felt, rough but soft at the same time, on her face and intertwined with his own. At seven, she heads back to his room before she leaves for the night. She finds him on his phone again, once again he seems to be listening to his sister screeching at him. When he sees her, he motions her in. 

“O, the nurse is here I have to go.” More screeching from his sister, finally he just hangs up on her mid-yell and turns his phone off.

“Your sister sounds like a piece of work.”

“She is. I tried you know, mom worked 50 hours a week at a dead end job and it was barely enough. I was the one home making dinner, making sure she did her homework. I tried to get a job to help her out but they told me to focus on football it was my future. So I was more of a dad than a brother. She hates me now.”

“She doesn’t seem to have a problem taking your money or the fame that comes with being your sister.”

“Nope,” he answers. She sits on his bed again, it’s probably a dangerous move. “I paid attention in class by the way.” She startles at his mention of her rant at him Saturday morning. “I have a career planned for after I retire. If my brain is still intact, that is.”

“Oh, good.” She is still trying to figure out why she cares so much about this one patient, she shouldn’t, she needs to keep her distance from him. But, now his hand is resting just above her knee, drawing circles on the her pants. She can feel it on her skin even through her scrub pants.

**  
If giving a patient a hand job doesn’t get her fired, asking Harper’s boyfriend to hack into billing and find Bellamy’s address just might. The address listed on his admission paperwork was the team’s training facility, but all of the team members who had been in her hospital did the same thing. She knew billing had his real address. HIPAA? What’s HIPAA when you need to get laid. It’s been a week since he was released from the hospital. A week since she last felt his hand on her knee, last looked into his eyes and saw a spark of something there. She just hoped he hadn’t opened his little black book and found someone else in the meantime.

She stood outside his door, poised to knock when he opened the door.

“I saw a car pull up and you get out. What took you so long?” She looked at him, brace on his knee, one crutch to his side. He is supposed to be using two and not doing any unnecessary moving. “My mom l left this afternoon.”

She had met his mom on his last day in the hospital, she was going to stay with him while he still needed assistance around the house. It was supposed to be for two months. 

“Are you trying to derail your recovery?”

“Nope, just was tired of hearing her blame me for the mess she is in. It’s taken me years but I am finally at a point where I can let what her and my sister say not affect me. I’ll be fine by myself. What are you doing here?”

She doesn’t know how to answer that. She could tell him she is here on a house call from the hospital, but he will know that is a lie. She could tell him the truth, that she has gotten herself off every night to the thought of her hand wrapped around his cock. He will either think she is a slut or a creep.

“I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d drop by.” He laughs at her, motions for her to come in. His house is huge, and she knows he only lives here during the season. Has a house in California he lives in the off-season. The living room is the size of her apartment and her apartment is huge itself. This makes the house she grew up in look like a McMansion.

“How did you get my address?” 

She doesn’t have an answer for that doesn’t make her sound like a stalker.

“It’s okay, you can keep your secret. I was about to call Miller, his friend Monty can find anyone, find your address.”

She sits down on the couch, buries her head in her hands and laughs uncontrollably.

“What?”

“Monty Green?”

“Yeah. He and Miller, well Nathan Miller, my agent, went to high school together.”  
“He is dating Harper, the first nurse you screamed at. He hacked into the billing department and found me your address.”

“Well, it looks like fate, or at least a computer hacker/molecular biologist are trying to bring us together.”

“Seems that way.” She recognizes the look in his eye, the desire, the want from when she had his hands on him last. He is sitting beside her now, barely an inch of space between his good leg and her. He leans forward, places a gentle kiss on her lips, waiting for her response. 

She pulls away, then leans back into him, kiss growing hungry. He threads his hands through her hair, she clutches at his tshirt. Her ,fogs over with desire, she trails a hand down his chest to his crotch. He is wearing basketball shorts, probably easier to get on and off, even though it is November and 20 degrees outside. She palms his growing erection, eliciting groans of pleasure from him. He grows harder with each squeeze and tug she gives him. Soon he is rock hard and panting into her ear.

“I have a bed, but you have to be on top.” All she can do is nod her assent. It takes another five minutes of his mouth on her neck, his palms on her tits under her bra, her hands on his cock, for her to be able to pull herself away from him. She rises, and extends him a hand to help him off the sofa. 

He leads her to the bedroom, curtains open facing the setting sun, king size bed in the middle of the room. Bellamy lowers himself to a sitting position on the bed, spreads his legs and Clarke settles in the v of his legs and they resume kissing. His kissing is on point, as the kids these days would say, just the right blend of tongue and teeth. It didn’t take him long to find them spot on her neck that makes her knees go weak, or the shell of her ear that sends spasms of pleasure up her spine. Soon, she settles on to his good leg, looking for friction. Grinding on to him. He lets that go on for a minute.

“Uh uh, come here.” He unbuttons her pants and she lets them fall to the floor. He runs a hand over her panties feels how she has already soaked them. He takes her shirt and bra off next. Then he goes to lie down. She goes to lie down on top of him.

“Uh, uh,” he says again, directing her to spin around so her cunt is in his face. She pulls his cock free of his pants just as he places his mouth on her. She has never felt anything like it before. His tongue finds her clit, already swollen and ready for him, circling a few times then he pushes into her. He follows that with his fingers, first one, then two. She tries to suck his cock, but everytime she gets a rhythm going, he changes something up on her cunt and she has to stop the pleasure is just too much. Everytime he does it, he stops for a a fraction of a second and chuckles, has she finally found him? The guy who likes to give rather than receive?  
Once he puts his thumb to her clit, with his fingers in her pussy and his mouth on her, she is gone. She is basically humping his face at this point and he is egging her on, pulling her back to him when she tries to pull off him. He won’t let her stop until she comes. And come she does, with a hoarse shout and a groan. She collapses on top of him, her buried in the coarse hair of his crotch.

It takes her several minutes to calm back down, when she does she spins so she is facing him and falls into the crook of his outstretched arm.

“You’re not done are you?” He grins, kissing her. She can taste herself on him. 

“Nope,” she reaches down, pulls his shorts off and climbs on top of him. They lay there for a several minutes, kissing, letting her calm down some more. Her heart is still racing a mile minute from her last orgasm. She reaches down and takes his cock in her hand. “Full disclosure, my last two relationships were with women.”

“So?”

“It’s been quite a while since I’ve been with a man, and you are substantially bigger than the last guy I was with. And the last dildo I used for that matter.”

“Mmm,” he says, kissing her again. “That means it will just be that much more fun for me. Condoms are in the drawer on my side.” She reaches over for a condom, pulls one out, gets it ready and rolls it on his rock hard cock. It really is an impressive dick. Thankfully, the condom is lubricated and she is still soaked from earlier.

She nuzzles his neck once she gets settled again. “Take your time, we have all night,” he tells her. But she doesn’t want to take all night, the longer she stares at his dick the more she wants it in her. So, she rises up, grits her teeth and settles her cunt at the tip. She eases herself down slowly, bit by bit. He rubs at her clit as she goes, whispering the dirties things to her, about how she is taking it so well, about how she looks impaled on him. She winces a few time at the size and girth, but once Clarke Griffin sets her mind to something she finishes it. She pulls up off him a little and sinks back down farther, inch by inch, until she is fully seated and can feel his balls hitting her ass.

They lay there for a few minutes, grinning like idiots. After a few more minutes, and a lot more dirty talk from Bellamy she starts to move slowly, the more she gets used to him the faster she moves.

“Look at you, God, your so fucking gorgeous. I could fuck you all day and all night.” His mouth on her cunt had been heaven but the words coming out of it now might be even better. Nah, not possible, second best. It doesn’t take long for her to come again, this time more intense than the last. She collapses on top of him and he takes advantage to fuck up into her chasing his own release. He comes a few minutes later with a groan, screaming her name.

“When my knee is better and I can be on top, it will be even better.” She settles into his arms and he kisses her lightly on the forehead. She doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but the next time she is conscious it is pitch black outside. She gets up and searches the room for more blankets so as not to disturb, she finds the stash, covers them up and curls back into his arms again.

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun to write! If this was your prompt, please feel free to leave a comment. I took many liberties with the story not the least of which are HIPPA and how ACL injuries are treated. This was not beta'd, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> I'm on [ Tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jellamyjake)


End file.
